How Time Flies
by Aleska1492
Summary: Chuuya wanted to know the time. That is all he wanted to know. Unfortunately, the only person in the room was Dazai. A very, very bored Dazai. No pairings, just Dazai and Chuuya being themselves.


**This little thought came to me when I was PMing a fellow writer, and I just had to get the idea down. I've wanted to try writing a one-shot to see if it gave any inspiration, and this will be the first I write, as my other stories are at least planning to be multi-chapter, and I feel it's turned out quite nice. If you liked it, leave a like, and if you have any suggestions for writing good one-shots, don't hesitate to review or PM!**

**Disclaimer: Bungou Stray Dogs is not mine! It's called FANfiction for a reason.**

"Oooi, Mackarel!" Chuuya called out lazily. The exclamation came out muffled because his face was trying to sink through a cold pillow.

It was a hot, humid day in the port city of Yokohama; it was a day where you wanted to just lay down and pretend you didn't have to move. These kinds of days never failed to make Chuuya's infamous temper worse than usual. These days were days people in the Port Mafia knew to avoid him at all costs, no matter who orders them to interact with him, Mori's wrath be damned! They would much rather deal with Mori than face a pissed off Chuuya when his fuse was shorter than usual.

It did not help that Dazai was nearby, standing less than three meters away from him, bringing his annoying presence closer to Chuuya than the ginger liked on a good day. The presence of the bandaged teen made things far worse, and with everyone avoiding irritable Chuuya, the two were left completely to their own devices.

A horrible decision, really.

"What do you want, Hat Rack?" Dazai muttered, sending a disinterested look over with his visible eye. He was currently standing at the granite counter, making himself a cup of coffee; he wasn't awake enough for this. He had been up all night and the night before drawing up some plans for different missions and scenarios because he couldn't sleep, so he was currently half-dead to the world, much to his disappointment.

He wanted to be full-dead, dammit!

The teenagers currently claimed a small meeting room within headquarters, _supposedly_ discussing a mission they'd just received, but both were too lazy and tired to do anything truly productive. They wanted to take the day off, but "I don't want to see his ugly mug and deal with the shitty weather on the same day" wasn't a good enough excuse, apparently.

The meeting room was a small room not meant for large amounts of people, and it was usually used when a person or a small group of people needed to discuss a mission or simply wished to chat. It held two, overstuffed couches, each that could seat two or three people comfortably depending on the individual's anatomy. They faced each other, separated by a coffee table. The granite counter was equipped with a coffee maker and stood to the side. One wall had a whiteboard and markers for drawing out battle plans.

That board was also currently full of doodles of Chuuya strangling Dazai, Dazai measuring Chuuya's height, and lots of other terrible works of art.

Finally, on the last white wall, behind one of the couches, stood a clock. It was the only clock in the room and the only way for anyone to know time passed, for there were no windows. That meant there were no windows for people to eavesdrop through, and also no windows to open for a light breeze, to the chagrin of the two current residents.

Chuuya was lying face-down across the couch, groaning in annoyance. He couldn't see the clock from his spot and felt too lazy to move to a position where he could.

"What time is it?"

Unknown too him, Dazai smirked mischievously, seeing an opportunity to annoy the unsuspecting ginger midget. His eye roamed lazily to the clock. It was 3:00. There were three more hours before Mori would even consider allowing them to return home, and Dazai was very. Very. Very. _B__ored_.

If they had a supervisor, they would have just told Chuuya the time and the whole event would be over, but there was no supervisor to watch over the two, and that meant there was nobody to save the poor midget from the bandaged troll.

"Why don't you check yourself?" he asked, planning his words carefully. He made a point to say this while facing the counter so he can't see the clock, either.

"Too tired to move," Chuuya grumbled, lifting his head up an inch and flopping back down to the couch like a fish as if to prove a point. It would have been quite effective if he was dealing with anyone else, but this is Dazai we're talking about.

"But you just dii~id~!" the bandaged teenager sang, knowing the tone always annoyed the chibi with a hat, "It's not nice to li~iiie."

He could hear the low growl that left Chuuya's throat as he mustered the energy to give Dazai the evil eye.

"Ah! You moved again! You're so busy proving yourself wrong today, Chuuya-chaaaan!"

"Just tell me the time dammit!"

"Why should I?"

"Because you are up and can see the damn clock, dumbass!"

"That's not very nice~!"

"I'm not in a nice mood, Mackarel. Now what the fuck is the time?!"

"I may tell you..." Dazai begins, inserting a thoughtful tone into his voice that Chuuya realizes he should be wary of, "...If you apologize for your _cruel_ words~."

He was smirking, but Chuuya couldn't see that as his eyes were closed and his face was connected firmly to a pillow.

There was silence for a solid minute before Chuuya finally snapped, "FINE! I'm sorry for my rudeness you damn Mackarel! Happy?"

Dazai was trying hard to withhold his snickers, "That's acceptable, Chuuya-chaaan~." Chuuya growled at the teasing tone his partner's voice contained, but asked for the time one last time, politely.

"I _suppose_ I shall tell you..." Dazai exclaims dramatically as if telling someone the time was a daunting task. He glances to see what time it is now, "The time, Hatrack,..."

Chuuya glances up with one eye at the pause. Dazai is walking up to him and kneels beside the couch. He leans in until his mouth is next to the redhead's ear.

"It's a secret~." he whisper-sings.

...

There's a growl.

"You... _troll_..."

It's all the warning Dazai gets before Chuuya leaps off the couch and tackles him to the ground, and they're off grappling on the carpet, screaming, laughing (in Dazai's case), and generally trying to hurt each other.

Thankfully the walls are soundproof or someone would wonder who let a beast loose in the headquarters.

It was now 3:07. Only two hours and fifty-three minutes left until the end of the day.

**And that's that. I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

**Have a great day.**


End file.
